


Baby Look What You've Done to Me

by ChickenandBrocolli



Series: 52 Ways to Murder Anyone [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Captive Sam, Demon Dean, M/M, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sibling Incest, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:24:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenandBrocolli/pseuds/ChickenandBrocolli
Summary: Dean escaped when Sam was trying to cure him and Castiel was nowhere to be found. Dean takes Sam hostage after he realizes he can't live life away from Sam. With no morality on the table, nothing will get in Dean's way of keeping Sam by his side.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt songs for the spnflashbang
> 
> this is the first work in a series I'm writing for evil! winchesters
> 
>  
> 
> [Spotify Playlist](https://play.spotify.com/user/retnuh_/playlist/32SUk3LKP1xBWZ4HJRButb)  
> [Say hi on tumblr!](http://lolitalecki.tumblr.com/)

Sam lost. There’s a demon running loose in his home while he’s handcuffed in nothing but boxers. He isn’t sure how long he’d been  hanging from the ceiling, held captive. The last thing he remembers is having Dean tied up in their dungeon trying to make him human again. Dean became human enough to escape the demon trap and ropes. 

The fight was brutal, with Sam’s one arm immobilized he barely had any chance to overpower him and continue trying to cure Dean. Sam prayed to Cas to intervene and help him but the Angel never came. They came face to face in one of the bunker’s winding hallways. Dean was armed with a hammer and Sam with the demon killing knife. Dean ended up jamming the hammer in the wall and Sam was disarmed by Dean. Dean tried to knock Sam onto the ground but his reflexes kicked in and he managed to dance around him. Dean got a hold of his little brother’s good arm and twisted it back, there was nothing left to do but try and swallow the burning taste of defeat. Dean utilized his control over Sam and knocked him unconscious with a swift punch to his jaw. 

Sam woke up cold and chained, he hasn’t seen Dean once since his escape and he’s not entirely sure how long it's been. He wants to scream for help or try and break his way out but he knows there is no one out there to help him. 

Sam began to take inventory of his body parts, making sure everything’s in working order. He no longer had his sling on so when he tried to move his arm sharp pains shot through his shoulder blade. The constant strain on his wrists from where they hung above him eventually caused him to pass out again. 

 

He awoke to a dark room and the sound of footsteps growing closer and farther away. Sam began to panic and pull on his chains.

“Sammy, you better stop or you’re gonna pass out again.” Dean warned. 

Sam’s vision hadn’t adjusted but he knew Dean was close because he could feel his warm breath on his face. He stopped fidgeting, even the smallest movements were causing him pain. Dean ran a cool hand over Sam’s bare shoulder. Sam eased himself into Dean’s touch, forcing himself to believe this is really his Dean. He let out a shaky breath. 

“That's it Sammy, relax baby. It’s just me. Just remember I'm doing this for you okay. I'm helping you. ” Dean whispered massaging Sam’s tense muscles.

Sam let his head fall forward onto Dean, his body still suspended from his restraints. Maybe the cure had worked. This Dean didn’t have sulfur permeating from his pores, he had the warm scent that was purely Dean. The room was still pitch black so Sam couldn’t tell if Dean’s eyes still held the murky demonic black or if they’ve gone back to green. From what Sam could tell, this was his Dean and he was okay with believing that.

“You hungry baby?” Dean asked. 

In Sam’s state he couldn’t be bothered to question the nickname, he could only focus on the rumbling of his stomach at the thought of food. He nodded against Dean. Dean moved his hand to the back of Sam’s head, combing through his tangled hair the way he did when they were kids. He felt something pinch the side of his neck but the pain was immediately replaced by Dean’s soothing hand.

“I’ll be right back Sam.” Dean left him still hanging from the ceiling. He tried to adjust himself so he could regain feeling in his numb hands. Maneuvering himself with cautious baby steps, Sam managed to get on his tiptoes and relieve some tension. 

Dean was back moments later.  He fed Sam some toast and let him drink water. He left again and Sam was alone in the dark. His eyes tried to form shapes in the dark room, straining to make something out of the abyss. Eventually the darkness lulled him back into something similar to, but nowhere peaceful enough to be called sleep. 

 

Time passed but Sam is unsure how long. He doesn’t have a reliable way to count time. Dean comes in periodically to feed him and help him use the bathroom. Sam couldn't be bothered by how intimate his only human contact was. Dean, always petting him, hand feeding him, even undressing so he could go to the bathroom. Soothing whispers from Dean and the occasional sound of the chains clinking above his head are the only sounds he’s heard. Sam’s afraid he’s going to lose a finger or his whole hand with the way his wrists feel in their contorted hold. He knows Dean wouldn’t let that happen though. He trusts Dean. If  Dean really wanted to kill him he would have done it already. He would have let him starve or just slit his throat, but he hasn’t. Sam came to the decision that Dean is protecting him. He wasn’t sure from what, but Dean was still taking care of him. Shapes shifted past his eyes trying to form in the dark of the room . Monster's he could name and kill and ones that were purely his imagination danced around him, taunting him with their ability to roam. 

 

A loud scraping sound pierced Sam’s ears, something big was being dragged through the echoing halls of the bunker. The secret door of their dungeon clattered open and the light flipped on. Sam shut his eyes in the sudden change of light, eyes burning behind his eyelids.

“Sorry Sammy, forgot you hadn’t seen the light.” Dean apologized but there was a hint of laughter in his voice. 

Sam blinked his eyes open, squinting to adjust to the light. Dean pushed in one of the beds from one of the unused bedrooms. He set it up on the wall opposite of Sam before coming over to him.

“Now Sammy, if you’re good and do what I say you get to sleep in the bed soon. Okay? If you don’t I’m gonna have to leave you tied up.”

Dean gripped Sam’s jaw lightly forcing him to look him in the eye. Sam’s adam's apple bobbed under Dean’s grip.

“You gonna be a good boy and let me get you cleaned up?” questioned Dean with a dead stare.

Sam nodded. He didn’t have the strength or reason to try and run. Dean reached into the breast pocket of his flannel and pulled out a key. He undid the cuffs around Sam’s wrists and let Sam collapse onto him. Dean ran his hand along Sam’s busted shoulder. He pressed his thumb into the space between his shoulder and neck causing Sam to flinch away. Sound was still foreign to Sam but he was pretty sure it was his dry, unused throat that let out the inhuman groan. His shoulder was still in pretty bad shape but Dean could just pop it back when Sam was passed out and possibly drugged again. He had only did it twice but he wouldn't shy away from drugging his little brother again if he thought he was going to be unmanageable. 

“Oh you poor thing.” Dean whispered, holding Sam against him. 

“Need me to carry you?” Dean asked. 

Sam nodded, there was something deeper and darker in his brother’s voice and Sam wasn’t sure the cure had worked entirely. He leaned onto Dean and let him carry most of his weight and place him on the bed. Dean kneeled in front of him taking Sam’s bloody wrists into his hands. He licked his lips sadistically. Crimson staining his hands in the prettiest way he'd ever seen. Sammy's always been the best, in Dean's eyes, at everything he's done. This apparently also includes bleeding. 

“We’re gonna get you all better. Don’t you worry Sam. When this is over I might have a treat for you.” His brother smiled at him, but the smile was superficial. 

Sam let himself be half carried through the bunker to the bathroom, too hazy from the sensory overload to notice anything different about his surroundings.   Dean maneuvered Sam into their bathroom and took off his boxers for him, which was no problem because they were already falling off his thinning hips. Dean let Sam slide down the tiled shower wall so he was sitting half under the already running spray. Dean then washed Sam, letting him lay against the cool wall half asleep. A thick layer of grime had formed over Sam from being in the room unmoving for so long. He took his time scrubbing down every inch of Sam with care making sure it he was clean. He lathered up Sam’s long locks and scratched his scalp. A sopping wet, naked, delirious Sam was now trying to climb into Dean’s lap, soaking him too. Dean tried to finish Sam’s shower up quickly without becoming a dripping mess. 

When he was finally done bathing him, he wrapped Sam’s wrists in clean gauze and dried him off. Redressing Sam was a different story. Sam’s limbs were sleep heavy so it took Dean a good five minutes to wrestle Sam into a t shirt.

“Sammy I'm trying to be nice but I'll chain you up naked if you don't help me put your clothes on you.” Dean threaten.

 

Sam huffed and opened heavy eyelids to try and get himself to a more conscious state. Dean got Sam into a shirt and new underwear when he realized he still had one final thing to do. Sam’s close cut stubble had grown into an unruly mess. So like the good brother he is, Dean spread shaving cream on his brother’s gaunt face and began to shave him back to smooth.

He tried to help Sam walk back to the dungeon but ended up giving up. He scooped Sam’s skeletal body up in his arms and carried him the rest of the way. Sam was dead weight but with all the weight he lost from lack of nutrition Dean was able to carry him with ease.

 

After he got Sam settled on his bed back in the dungeon, Dean went to the kitchen to make Sam food. He brought him a sandwich and some fruit juice Sam had stocked their fridge with, an alternative to the toast and water he had been receiving these last couple weeks. Dean made his way back to Sam. He sat with him while he ate, assisting Sam when needed. Their silence was only broken by the soft hums Sam would make because he was eating something with actual flavor. 

“I'll come check on you late okay, kiddo.” Dean eased Sam back onto the bed.

He wrapped his wrists with rags that way Sam couldn't open the wounds. He handcuffed him to the bed and waited with him until Sam fell back asleep, stroking his head occasionally. 

 

On his walk through the hall back to his own room , Dean realized that if Sam got back to full health he might try and run, or worse, he might try and kill Dean. Right now Sam was the perfect prisoner, he trusted Dean and was up for doing anything Dean wanted. Sure Dean drugged him the first night but the rest of Sam’s behavior was done all on his own. Dean needed Sam completely dependent on him. He needed Sam to want him so much the only place he would be running is right to Dean. 

 

Truthfully Dean was still completely dependent on Sam. He still had the same needs as when he was human. He needed to know where Sam was and how he is at all time. Dean tried excruciatingly hard to outrun these feelings when he spent all that time with Crowley. He didn't want any commitment or attachment.  But somewhere deep down in the depths of his tattered soul he knew they weren't going anywhere. He also knew those feeling were deep seated in something sick and sadistic that even human Dean felt and tried to bury away. Dean needed Sam to complete him. 

 

Dean’s thirst for someone else’s blood on his hands is almost becoming unstable but there's no way he's leaving Sam alone in the bunker. Nights when he would sit with nothing to do but go through the Men of Letters inventory his mind would run wild with all the possibilities of how to mutilate the human body. Visions of pretty girls with their throats slit, drowning in their own blood. He thought of all the different incisions he could make that would do damage but still keep his victim alive. The suffering they would go through would have them begging for Dean to kill them. 

 

Dean's fingers itched for the feel of his blade, but he was unsure where Sam had put it.

_ Sam.  _

The same person his world revolved around. No matter how destroyed his morality was, no matter how evil and unattached he needed Sam. 

  
  


Dean fulfilled his promise and came back to check on Sam. He didn't turn the lights on because he could tell by Sam’s even breathing he was asleep. The smell of vomit filled the air. Sam hadn't been able to keep his food down. Dean sat with Sam for a while watching him attempt to toss in his sleep. He chuckled as Sam tried to pull at the cuffs around his wrist. ‘You're not going anywhere, buddy.’ He thought to himself.

 

Dean left Sam after he was sure he was sleeping peacefully. He came back a few hours later to clean up the mess Sam had made.

  
  


Sam awoke the lights on, his stomach contracted violently as he tried to sit up. He tried to curl in on himself and ease the pain, but the cuffs prevented him.

“Dean!” Sam tried to yell for his brother’s help but it came out as something above a hoarse whisper. 

Sam shook his hands as hard as he could so the clanging metal of handcuffs could possibly alert Dean that Sam was awake and needed him. Finally Sam heard Dean yell, “Coming Sammy!” The minutes it took Dean to get to him felt like hours. 

“What's the matter Sam?” Dean questioned already moving to unlock Sam’s restraints. 

Sam couldn't say anything, his hands moved to his stomach as he leaned over the side of the bed and threw up again. Dean rubbed Sam’s back trying to get him through it. When Sam was done he curled up on his side, head in his brother’s lap. 

Dean who would normally be opposed to this, let it go. He continued to rub his little brother’s back, positive that any other reaction he could possibly have to this situation would scare Sam off and lose the trust that they had between them. 

  
  


Sam needed to eat, he needed some kind of substance in him. Dean mixed up a smoothie, unsure how Sam would handle solid food when he got an idea. He knew how he was going to keep Sam in this trusting state. He pulled a knife from the butcher block and ran it down the center of his palm. He clenched his fist over the drink letting the blood squeeze from the cut.  Sam would need him now more than ever.

 

Dean brought the drink back to Sam, who was curled up in blankets in the far corner of the room. In his haze, he saw nothing wrong with Dean or the smoothie and accepted both gratefully. His eyes rolled back in pleasure when the first drop hit his tongue. 

“Thanks Dean.” He sent Dean a lazy smile, his voice raspy as it attempted to wrap around words. 

Dean sat down next to Sam, letting him curl up against his side. He wrapped a strong arm around Sam’s thinning frame. Dean was okay with their new dynamic as long as it meant the Sam shaped hole inside of him was filled. 

 

Dean continued to keep Sam hostage, occasionally giving him more freedom to roam the bunker. But even when Sam had permission to do what he pleased he still stayed right at Dean’s side. 

Every time Dean fed Sam he mixed his blood into the food. It was harder to disguise when Sam started eating solid food again but Dean got more creative. He would let his blood run into Sam’s drinks and give him cups that he couldn't see into. 

 

If Dean wasn't on time with the meals, Sam would find himself with the onset of what would turn into a nasty migraine. All his senses were heightened, he could tell when Dean was in the hallway on his way with Sam’s food. He could tell what Dean was bringing him to eat before he even saw it. Sam thought he was just getting his health back. He thought that this was all because Dean was taking extra good care of him. 

 

The blood was also messing with his memories. It made him believe this was how Dean had always been taking care of him. Dean only wanted to help him get better, that's why Sam was in the bunker. He just wanted to keep him safe. 

Sam had grown increasingly more attached to Dean. He would get violently sick throughout the night without Dean in his vicinity. Dean had let Sam out of the dungeon and let him sleep with him. The first night Dean had brought Sam a cot to sleep on in his room but it wasn't enough for Sam. Sam found his way into Dean’s bed. Though disgruntled, Dean figured this was just something else he had to do to keep his Sam around. 

Sam wasn't sure why he needed Dean around him all the time. Everything was just better he felt like his life was more full. Sam’s addiction was back in full swing even if he wasn’t completely aware of it.

 

Dean continued the routine for weeks. It had been about three months since Sam tried to save him. Sam couldn't go more than a few hours being away from Dean. Their time apart was limited to bathroom breaks, Dean’s “cooking time”, and when Dean had to go into the nearest town to get more food and other supplies. He craved Dean’s presence and had no idea what the reasoning behind it was. He basked in the attention Dean gave him.  He was now completely dependent on Dean, even in ways that weren't apparent to him. 

 

He eagerly awaited each meal practically devouring it. The greater amounts of food and blood were bringing Sam’s health back. He also had something itching at the back of his mind. Something dormant coming to life. The feeling was so familiar to him He couldn't put his finger on it but he didn't seem to care. 

 

He loved having Dean’s constant attention on him. Dean constantly taking care of him. He thrived on it.  Dean would come into the dungeon where Sam still spent time and if Sam wasn't chained he would come right up to him. Sam being chained was a rarity now, it only had happened twice since he began drinking Dean’s blood. The first time had been when he tried to leave with Dean. He was whining like a child and tried to follow Dean out the bunker door. Dean chained him back up in the dungeon for the time he was out. The second time had been when he walked into the kitchen when Dean was cooking after Dean told him that was his time alone. Sam had become impatient waiting for food in the library and had come to see what was taking his brother so long. Dean kept him chained up for two days. 

 

Dean wanted to see how long Sam could live without his blood. He cut Sam off. Sam had visions of Dean being ripped apart by monster after monster. He screamed and screamed while Dean sat by watching idly, trying to see how much Sam could take. Sam lost weight rapidly, throwing up any food that didn't have Dean’s decadent blood in it.  Sam wasn't sure if he was asleep or awake. As the days dragged on his visions and dreams became more realistic. He got so violent trying to kill the invisible monsters attacking him that Dean had to sedate him and tie him down again. When he realized he was slowly killing his brother. The realization dawned on him that no crossroads demon is going to buy Dean's tattered demonic soul if Sam died. So Dean took advantage of Sam’s comatose state and dripped some of his blood in between Sammy’s pink parted lips. 

 

Sam woke up a scary 36 hours later with nothing but a slight headache and a worried Dean by his side. 

 

Dean went back to feeding Sam the way he had been but Sam still felt like he was missing part of the equation. Dean didn't leave him alone enough with his thoughts to really sit and figure it out. It was really an accident that Sam found what was missing. Dean had been bringing him food just like any normal day when a sharp piece of the bed post sliced his forearm. Sam’s world moved in slow motion. He watched the blood on his older brother’s arm fall in a single drop to the godforsaken bedpost. His mouth watered as he resisted the urge to lunge after it and lap it up. Sam’s wild eyes met Dean’s. Dean watched his brother’s gaze drop the rapidly healing cut, his hunger palpable between them . Sam shifted towards Dean, licking his lips as he begged,

“Please.” 

It was that exact moment Dean realized Sam wasn't going anywhere, he had him trapped, tied to him though his blood. They were bonded in more ways now than they were before. What was left of their damned souls had completed and complemented the other but now they had gone past all borders of codependent. Before when they were torn from each other they were mentally and emotionally broken, but without Dean, Sam  _ will  _ die.

Dean tentatively made a cut in the same place the other healed. Sam fidgeted in anticipation. He offered his bleeding arm to Sam. Sam’s fingers ghosted along Dean’s arm. He sent Dean a hesitant glance.

 

“Come on Sammy, it's gonna heal up again if you don't.” 

 

Dean shut his eyes not allowing himself to feel anything for Sam’s sake, in fear of running him off. Sam wrapped his lips around the oozing cut. He began to suck, tongue lapping up all he could . His eyes rolled back in pleasure as he whimpered around his brother’s arm. This wasn’t the Dean he knew before but this was still his Dean and with the orgasmic taste of blood filling his mouth he could give a shit less what Dean was. This Dean was just as good, maybe even better than human Dean had been. Sam pulled off of the cut as it healed in front of his eyes. 

 

“Do another.” He demanded, eyes dark with bloodlust. 

 

Dean made another cut on his arm. He sat down next to Sam and watched him ravish his arm with a predatory smirk. He had just devoured his prey.

Dean locked Sam away that night. He restrained him to the bed easily, Sam too blood drunk to complain or fight. 

Sam lied cuffed on his bed, licking his lips dry. Dean gave him the one thing he really needed. Sam’s drunken haze turned into a deep dreamless sleep. When he woke up he waited for Dean’s returning. Staring into the dark Sam lost himself to his thoughts. Dean was different than any of the other blood he drank. It was better. He wouldn't even want to play with the thought of any other blood. Dean was doing this for Sam. He wanted to make him stronger. 

 

Dean unlocked Sam the next day. 

With the secret out it was easier for Dean to care for Sam. Sam didn't have to be chained up anymore. Dean still just wanted to do it for the fun every now and then.

He could now also fulfill his murderous urges and not have to worry so much about Sam at home. 

Dean was standing at the stove cooking eggs for the two of them when he broke the news.

“I'm going out for a few days.”

Sam looked up from a book his flipping through from his perch on the counter next to the the stove.

“What are we going on a hunt or something?” Sam asked.

He was definite Dean said he would be going alone but that wasn't going to stop him from trying to tag along. 

“Not ‘we’, Sam, ‘me’ I'm going alone. I guess you can kinda say it's like a hunt. Plus you're resourceful just summon some crossroads demon and suck ‘em dry for all I care when I'm out.”

Dean replied nonchalantly, stirring the eggs in the pan. Dean poured them out onto two plates. 

“You aren't stopping me Sammy. And you're sure as hell not going.” Dean’s pointed look was enough for Sam to know this was the end of the conversation. 

The next few days were absolute hell for Sam. He wouldn't dare leave to go and strike up a fake and the thought of drinking from another demon absolutely repulsed him. He just wanted Dean.

  
  


When Dean got back home from his murder spree Sam only has blood on his mind. He would suck Dean completely dry if he’d let him. Truthfully the part of Dean that would give Sam anything was too strong and didn’t completely die when the rest of his humanity did and that part would probably let Sam drink all the poisoned blood in his veins. 

 

Sam knows better than to leave the bunker. He knows he has everything he needs right here with Dean he just wished Dean would give him more than the bare minimum.  Everything was different with Ruby, she was always ready to give Sam what he needed. Dean’s different. He’s constantly playing with Sam, testing his limits and making sure he works for what he wants.

Dean came back to the bunker with the iron smell of blood on him and Sam was crowding in on him before he even made it down the stairs. 

“Sammy calm down.” Dean pushed Sam out of space and began to get himself settled back in. 

 

“Please Dean. I need it.” He begged his brother, pulling him back into his space.

Dean tried to push past Sam but Sam was adamant about getting his blood.  _ Now. _

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam fine.” Dean huffed and pulled his knife out, cutting a thin red line on his forearm. 

Sam reached for his brother’s arm ready to drink all that Dean will give him. Before Sam could reach, Dean jerked his arm away from his brother’s.

“You think it's gonna be that easy Sammy?” Dean asked running his finger through the blood dripping from the cut he made. “I've been taking care of you all this time. I've been keeping you safe and now you're so spoiled and greedy you think you can get whatever you want from me whenever.” 

Sam was stunned, wild-eyed and mouth agape. He was ready to get down on his knees and beg, so he did. Sam dropped to his knees in front of Dean. 

 

“Please Dean.” 

Dean’s eyes were blown demonic black, he gripped tightly at the back of Sam’s head and leaned down so their faces were inches apart. 

“You know Sammy, I kinda like you like this. Down on your knees begging me, giving me all the power.” he snarled, gripping Sam’s hair tighter.

Sam whimpered, eyeing the drying blood on his older brother’s arm.

Dean straightened up, hovering over Sam. He used his knife to make a cut down his palm.

“Open up.” He ordered.

Sam leaned his head back and opened his mouth wide, ready for anything Dean would give him. Dean squeezed his hand, inches above Sam’s hungry mouth, and let some of his blood drip into it. He pulled his hand away from Sam’s mouth. Deans then pricked his thumb on the tip of the blade, his blood bubbling to the surface. He put his thumb into Sam’s open, willing mouth. Sam sucked greedily, tongue swirling around the  wound. Sam whined at the loss of the tantalising blood

“Hey  Sammy. I can think of other things we can do with that hungry mouth of yours.” Dean suggested.

Sam couldn’t focus on his words though, only the fading iron taste in his mouth.

“Dean I need more.” Sam tried to get a grip on Dean’s hand but only managed to catch his sleeve, which was immediately yanked from his pleading grasp. 

Dean walked a predatory circle around Sam. He looked absolutely miserable. Sam let out a desperate whimper as a drop of Dean’s blood hit the concrete floor of the bunker. He wanted to suck Dean dry in more ways than one.

“You know what you gotta do right Sam?” Dean asked cupping Sam’s jaw lightly. 

Sam’s gaze dropped to the bulge in Dean’s jeans. He licked his lips and nodded.

Dean slapped Sam’s cheek lightly, 

“Good get to it.” 

Sam’s shaking hands popped the button on his big brother’s jeans and pulled the zipper down. Dean ran his fingers through Sam’s chestnut locks before pulling violently at them.

“I said get fucking to it.” 

Sam ripped Dean’s jeans and underwear down. Taking Dean’s half hard cock in his hand, he glanced up at his older brother, unsure what to do next. Dean sighed and reached down to grab the knife abandoned on the floor. Wincing, he cut deep into his hand, almost to bone. The cut was gushing when he wrapped his hand around himself, with two quick strokes he was covered in his own blood. Sam got his mouth on Dean immediately. He tried his hardest to suck Dean all the way but only ended up teary-eyed and choking on cock.

“That's it baby, take it.” Dean praised as Sam tried to take Dean to the base.

Sam sucked on the head as his tongue went wild trying to lap up every bit of blood. Sam continued moving up and down Dean’s length until all the blood was replaced with Sam’s spit. 

“Don't stop baby I'm close.” Dean groaned as Sam began to work what he couldn't get with his mouth with his hand. 

Dean looked down at Sam who was rubbing himself through his jeans. Sam looked gorgeous. Pretty pink mouth slicked with spit and blood, stretched wide around his big brother’s cock. The sight itself made Dean come right down Sam’s throat. He gripped Sam’s hair tight and gave one last thrust into his mouth before pulling out. 

“Wow Sammy keep that up and you can have blood whenever you want.” Dean praised. 

Sam smiled up at Dean, still achingly hard in his jeans but too blissed out to care. 

Maybe if giving head will get him blood other things might get him out on the road with Dean. 


End file.
